An hour later, the sun had gone down and it was 8.30 pm. The gym typically closed at 8pm latest, but the two wrestlers had been making a lot of progress. Jessica, with coaching from Steph, had mixed in setup sequences that involved lots of corner work, with Jessica kicking and stomping Steph down to a sitting position only to then apply her naked foot to the prone instructors throat several times. Jessica found a very sympathetic instructor and coach for her style. She suggested plenty of two footed jumps on the body from the mat and from the ring ropes, as well as a very brutal looking running on the spot right on the opponent's gut.
All these foot-oriented moved were mixed in with a host of other brutal moves that had some of the same brutal, heelish flavor: long, wrenching hair pulls that swung the opponent across the ring and twirled her onto the mat right on her breasts. Snapmares using the opponent's hair to yank her over into a summersault landing her flat on her back. Plenty of high-impact, dynamic moves that looked like they took a lot out of an opponent. And Steph was thoughtful about integrating moves that involved Jessica's feet, like big dropkicks with both feet aimed at the breasts designed to knock the opponent off her feet. Big running kneelifts into her opponent's chest. But most of all, Steph had Jessica practice how to combine the moves into longer sequences of rough, devastating moves that would realistically leave an opponent flat on the mat and ready to be walked on.
On their second try, Jessica noticed Steph's ample breasts hardening under the balls of her feet, her nipples poking into the web between her big toe and second toe. It was even more pronounced on the third and fourth go. And Jessica was surprised to notice how each time she finished a grinding sequence for incapacitating her opponent, Steph insisted on Jessica spending at least ten seconds standing on her face. By the end of the workout, Steph's face was flush red from being stepped on full weight by Jessica's 115 pounds. Why insist on finishing each sequence with a full, lengthy face stand? And the perky breasts underfoot. Was Steph turned on by her feet?
"Okay, great work, Jessica. You're starting to look like an entirely new breed of heel. Kind of like a humiliatrix. Maybe you can think of other ways to humiliate your opponents--both with your feet and with other parts of your body."
"Wow. My first thought goes to sitting on a wrestler's face, as long as she were female, or it would just look like a straight-up sex move."
"Why not?"
"Because wouldn't it start to turn the pro wrestling match into a fetish clip again?"
"I'd have to see how and when you used it during a match. Maybe we could try it. Imagine, for example, taking a wrestler by the chin, French-kissing him for a few seconds, long enough to confuse him along with the audience, then slapping him across the face? You see what I mean? Sex can be turned into old-fashioned dirty wrestling, and not dirty in the sexual sense."
"Steph, I can't thank you enough for all of this extra time and coaching you've spent with me. Do I owe you anything?"
"No. Just remember this and pass on what you're learning to someone who's not as far advanced as you."
Are you gay? For me. For my feet? How she wanted to know. There was no denying that Steph was making a big investment in time and thought in her, and all centred on being a doormat for her feet. Was Steph straight, bi, or gay? And was she attached, in an open relationship? Something about this carnival-steeped sport/freak show seemed to invite any and all speculation about a person's sexuality. Why was she so curious? There was no doubt that she found Steph attractive. She was about five nine, curly blonde hair--almost as curly as her auburn hair--stacked chest, but not too heavy as to be making a statement before you got to know her. And god her breasts were so sexy to feel giving under her feet, her nipples working between her toes.
Jessica hadn't had a boyfriend since high school, and he'd been anything but kinky. He'd even been averse to massaging her feet, and she was hoping she'd found a guy she could really indulge her foot fetish with. The sex had been okay, but she'd always found basic missionary sex a bit boring. Maybe it would be different with the right person. Jason was his name, and he was a track star and math whizz bound for something in computer science. They'd broken up when they went to different universities. He'd lived for one thing--coming all over her face. Never in her mouth. It was the regal display of his six or seven shots of semen draped over her nose, lips, and forehead that really seemed to get him excited. Often enough, he'd spend a moment surveying his load on her face and then find two more small shots in him that he'd always direct her to receive on her tongue as he shuddered during the last of his produce.
With her looks, figure, and curly auburn hair, she'd never wanted for male attention. Her first boyfriend has been a kissing, feeling-up boyfriend only, but he'd been the one who'd helped her discover her foot fetish. When this boy--Amjeet was his name--would come over for swims at her house (she was lucky enough to have a small in-ground pool) he would invite her to stand on him as he lay on the bottom of the shallow end to help him test how long he could hold his breath. Amjeet was a very nice boy--back in Grade 11. She'd been grateful to him for his help in developing her fetish for her feet without being as domineering as Jason had been. He'd been gentle and inviting, not dictatorial and assent-seeking. She'd felt her nipples harden as she stepped on Amjeet. Foot on his chest, foot on his stomach. That was their initial agreement.
But Amjeet had been the sort of guy she felt comfortable taking risks with. Jason would have criticized her suggestions about foot play, and for some reason--a reason she knew but hadn't worked out into words yet--she had let that condition of their partnership pass.
Amjeet had been the experimental partner she'd needed and been so grateful for. Where was he now? Could she find him on Facebook?
She'd slowly began to shift their pool play. She'd stepped down on his chest in the shallow end of the pool, then instead of putting her other foot on his chest, she'd put her foot right over his mouth, the ball of her foot pressing down on his lips. She'd held him down until he'd given her a tap on her calve to let him up. He'd come up from the water smiling, pleased and with a hard-on that the shallow end water of four feet only just covered and made hard to identify. The two had done this a dozen times, with one of her bare feet stepping on his lips, and his signaling her that he'd had enough of the breath deprivation. Finally, Jessica, age sixteen, had taken a risk she'd felt so warmly comfortable taking. After Amjeet had come up from the bottom of the shallow end of the pool, and the two had exchanged their usual smiles and exclamations about the duration of Amjeet's submersion, she'd smiled and reached out with her foot and cupped Amjeet's glans in her toes and grasped it.
"What?" she'd asked the blushing Amjeet.
"Oh my god," he'd said. "This is awesome."
"It's not as if I haven't noticed you stand up straight underwater once you stood up. Your cock was almost poking through the surface of the water!"
Amjeet had turned red at that remark, his glans still in the grasp of Jessica's toes.
Jessica had felt real embarrassment in her friend at that moment. She released his cock with her long toes.
"Just say the word, and I'll put my toes back where they were, okay?"
Amjeet regarded her with a look she would never forget. It was arousal, wonder, gratitude, and also a sense of admiration of how adroitly she had furthered their sexual relationship.
"I think if you put your toes back on my cock, I'll come in the pool, which no one wants..."
"Yes, that's true. Why don't we get out of the pool and head to my bedroom and I can squeeze the come out of your dick with my toes? Worse-case scenario, I have to drop a blanket into the laundry."
And so she'd begun to add in footjobs to their usual pool routines. Generally. She'd take care of him like a junior partner-lover, resting his cock on her calf as she squeezed his dick with her toes until he came like a geyser all over her leg. Few and far between were the times she needed to throw any blankets into the laundry. She usually licked all the come off her own calf if she could reach it all, which turned him on immensely.
